I fall
A cascade
Out of the mist
Down the rocky narrows
Seeking the still
Cool waters
Their calm
But there is no pool
Only the decline
Until I am reduced
To a trickle
Then
nothing
Category: Samsung S20 FE
Green on Granite and Gneiss
The green clings
Tenuous
Tenacious
To a billion years
Of granite and gneiss
And green grew only
For half of that
While here am I
Where the Earth collides
With itself
To raise mountains
From sundered plains
Now left to wonder
If dinosaurs and woolly mammals
Wandered landscapes
Much different than this
At Gros Morne
A place that just feels
Older than time
Beautiful and Cruel
Grounded yet adrift
Betwixt and between
Tethered while untethered
Her beauty
Both fades and grows
Returning to the Earth
From which she once
Set out to sea
The cycle of life
Beautiful and cruel
Both to be found
In any single moment
This one nears the end
At which new life begins
Fearless
Fearless
She danced
As if everyone was watching
Everyone was
She danced
All the better for it
Though some grew anxious as
She danced
Fearless
The Bend
Big bend in the river comin’ up!
No idea what’s around it
Can’t even see the turn all that clear
Or what’s just ahead fer that matter
No matter
We done plenty a these
Always works out
Usually fer the better
I suppose there’ll be
Remarkable new things to discover
Around that corner
All kinds of possibilities
Don’t worry none about the fog
Things’ll be clear enough once we get close
Just the way the corner up ahead
Is gettin’ clear enough to know the turn
Kinda pretty idn’t it?
The way the fog only gives ya part a the picture
Then just the green
Then trees and the cracks in rocky cliffs
Ya only get enough to know how to move on
With some foreshadowin’
Of just how beautiful it’s gonna be
When it all becomes clear
Scraped Clean
The way life clung
To the cracks and crevices
Of the hard rock cliffs
Fascinated him
He imagined it
Like the bottom trawlers
That once dragged The Banks
For cod and haddock
Rather than nets, though
It was glaciers that scraped
The cliff face smooth
Erasing all signs of life
It took thousands of years
Of time and erosion
For life to eek out
This small foothold
His grandfather used to tell him
About throwing a bucket
Over the side
And cod would fill it up
When they closed the cod fishery
It was like another ice age
Swept across Newfoundland
Few fishers survived it
He imagined the ocean floor
Scraped clean by the trawlers
And wondered how long
Before the cod came back
grey ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #346
“Too bad about the weather,” she says
I’m framing a photograph
Camera in hand though not to eye, just yet
“Yesterday was perfect
Bright and sunny
Not a cloud in the sky”
I like today just fine, I tell her
As a frame begins to form in my mind’s eye
“But it’s so dismal and grey!”
Blue skies at noon
Are a bright, empty smile
She looks at me, head tilted
It’s a sky without character, mood
The light falls straight down, casts no shadows
Still the look
It’s dull
“You prefer dour to dull?”
I do
“Perhaps that says more about you.”
I smile, and nod
Half because, perhaps, she’s right
And half because I’ve found the frame
Camera to eye … click
I show her the screen
“Oh! That’s beautiful!”
Teardropping
9:25PM, August 20, 2023 :: Keltic Lodge, Cape Breton Highlands National Park, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, Canada
A man with a guitar and a good, traditional folk voice plays a variety of songs I might expect, though most I’ve never heard before. Still, the Gordon Lightfoot, Valdy and George Harrison were lovely, as have all the songs I’ve never heard before.
I have to admit, I’m not listening all that closely, sitting on an overstuffed couch in the Keltic Lodge’s lounge. I can’t see him, either, since there’s a pillar obscuring the view.
However, I have power and WiFi here, and those have been in short supply the last few days, especially the power. The battery in the trailer hasn’t had a full charge since leaving Prince Edward Island, and the last couple days I haven’t driven enough to make up for the consumption of the various devices I use daily. So, I’m hovering on the edge of not being able to power the fridge. To keep it going I’ve limited charging phone, computer, batteries.
Limiting the charging means I have to limit the use, especially the power hungry laptop, which is why today’s post is coming later in the day than I’d like, and why I’ll have a hard time posting tomorrow’s Pic and a Word Challenge in a timely manner. The lounge is only open ’til 11PM and it’s now 10:39.
This has definitely been a journey of learning. I look at this photo and think of a couple of things. First: I’m trying to stop for the night before it’s actually night. I didn’t quite make it the night this photo was taken a few days ago. Late arrivals don’t leave any time to enjoy (and photograph) the location with decent light. And while I’ve got light, cooking (and eating) in the dark isn’t a lot of fun, especially with all the mosquitoes and other biting insects that come out as the sun sets.
Aside from that little logistical shortcoming, what I also register is the fact that nearly everything I hold dear is in that rig: cameras and lenses, computer and hard drives loaded with words and photographs, my bicycle, that beat-up but still remarkably reliable, Toyota Rav4.
The teardrop I haven’t made up my mind about. On the one hand, teardropping is hella better than car camping. Quick to setup and breakdown, and I can park it for the night in all kinds of places (for free) that a tent just won’t work. Huge bonus: a thick memory foam double sized mattress. No leaky and too-thin air mattresses on hard, rocky uneven ground. No crouching to clamber/crawl in and out of a soggy tent flap. I really can’t stress what a huge bonus this is.
But as a long-term solution for getting both off-grid and mobile, it’s probably not the answer. I still haven’t figured out a way to be comfortable hanging out if the weather (or the biting insects) are being disagreeable. The trailer’s sleeping area has served on such occasions, but only because there were no other options. It’s fine for lying down, but sitting up just doesn’t quite work.
A better option for this would be a Campervan or Class C Camper, but those consume a fair bit more fuel than the RAV4, even when it’s pulling a 1,200 pound trailer. That may work for future trips, but this one needed to cover long distances in a short time, so fuel economy was a big consideration.
So in the meantime I suppose I’ll have to add some sort of cover to lounge under. I just haven’t decided what form that cover should take. Pop-up tent with mosquito screens? Or just a tarp stretched over a comfortable space? I’ve seen both these work for others. Or maybe something else altogether?
Hmmmm… I don’t have an answer yet. Need to come up with one soon. I’m beginning to find a groove in this teardropping thing. Maybe the answer will make itself clear with a bit more groove?
Driving Rain
4:42PM, August 18, 2023 :: Tim Horton’s, Port Hawksbury, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, Canada
Teardropper’s note to self:
Weather radar is a thing. Use it, preferably before departure, so you’ll know to let the storm move ahead of you, rather than drive for 5 hours in the thick of it. Especially when your teardrop trailer is watertight when stationary, but a tich leaky around the doors when underway. The leaks aren’t too bothersome in a light rain, but under a deluge…. well, it could have been quite unpleasant.
Fortunately, the four shammy towels I’d stuffed around the door bases managed to suck up the bulk of the water. (I squeezed out about a quart of water from them upon arriving in Port Hawksbury.) I’d bought the shammies over a month ago in Montreal for leaks I was having in the galley, but never needed them because it didn’t rain again before I fixed those leaks. It was even on my mind to return them. Thankfully, without any foresight of my own, I hadn’t.
And thank you so much, Ann L’Italien, for the brilliant gift of a waterproof mattress cover. The soaked shammies were right up against it, and the cover no doubt saved the shammies from transferring water to the nearly equally absorbent foam mattress. <mwah!>
Tonight will be a much more comfortable sleep for these two mitigating conditions.
Unfortunately, though there was some great coastal scenery, the rain was just too hard for the Fuji. Too much rain on the lens. Even trying to frame with the phone was pretty challenging, but I managed to get a few shots in the few stops I made, getting absolutely soaked at this one and a couple others.
In the feature photo, that’s not mist or fog obscuring the distant point and fuzzing the car’s headlights on the highway. That’s rain. My raincoat, shorts and hat can assure you that I was getting hammered by it. It’s fascinating that rain isn’t apparent on photographs up close unless you shoot with a pretty high shutter speed, or the rain is backlit.
Lessons learned, and disaster averted by a little luck and and a thoughtful gift. Despite the weather, not such a bad day as much of the scenery was quite spectacular, indeed, due in part to the weather.
Time to roll off and find a camp spot, and hope the ….
…hmmm, looking at the weather radar, the light rain outside is the leading edge of another storm cell coming through. There are some nasty colours in it. Looks like it’ll pass through this area by 7PM, an hour and a half from now as I type this.
Maybe another cuppa, and another blog post??
I’m learning. 🙂
Lingering Too/II
9:00AM, Mutton Cove, Nova Scotia, Canada
I think the last sunset I saw on a horizon not entirely occluded by clouds (or under assault by squadrons of mosquitoes), was in St. John, a couple of weeks ago. Here, in Mutton Cove, Nova Scotia, it was a luxury to photograph the sunset, then sit outside comfortably for a meal. Even better, and for the first time on this trip, I sat outside to compose a blog post (yesterday’s Serpentine).
This morning, the day broke cloudy, but the sun soon made its appearance through scattered broken clouds, while a light onshore breeze has kept all the biting insects at bay. So after some breakfast and conversation with Vincent, who shared the parking lot with me last night, I find myself lingering, just a little longer than I’d intended, to enjoy the peace of the morning and watch some locals launch their small boat into the bay as the tide comes.
The tide rises so quickly here at this far end of Nova Scotia’s Bay of Fundy, (I’m watching it inch its way up the beach, little steps with every wavelet) you don’t bother backing the boat all the way into the water. Rather, just gently lower it onto the shore ahead of the advancing sea. You’ll have about enough time to bring your tow rig and trailer back above the tide, then walk back to the boat and clamber in before the ocean rises enough to lift you off the bottom.
They’ve paddled a little further offshore, to deeper water, and started their engine. Now heading off to some hopefully lucky fishing spot in the bay. And I think, too, I’ve lingered long enough. Pack up and off to Halifax. Perhaps a cycle along the way.
Pix to Words 